Sunday is for Sleeping
by grossly-sweet
Summary: A bunch of Sunday mornings to give you a glance at Lance Hunter and Barbara Morse, the married years. And now the years after their marriage too!
1. The Married Years

**So, yes, technically this is my first fic. But, this is also like my seventeenth version of this, so that's gotta count for something too, right? There are many amazing stories out there about these characters, so I hope I got it right.**

 **I got the idea for this from a song, in which the artist captures like the growing up of his daughter in Sunday mornings. If that makes sense. It's a Dutch song titled** _ **Dochters**_ **and by Marco Borsato. In this story Bobbi and Hunter don't have kids, but there are Sunday mornings.**

 **I do own this piece of gum but that absolutely not these characters. I hope you'll enjoy it.**

 **o0o**

The buzzing of her phone is what wakes up Barbara Morse, it is Sunday morning at approximately seven am. She wiggles in an attempt to break herself free from the man cuddling her, because well fuck this was a mistake. This should've never happened. One glance at her phone makes it quite clear that she's not the only one who agrees with her about bad decisions being made the night before. She slides out of the bed and starts assembling her clothes-completely disregarding the man in the bed.

"What are you up too, love?" he asks, his voice laced with sleep; it startles her and suddenly makes her very aware about how naked she is.

She replies with some vague excuse about overstaying her welcome, and she silently curses herself for her clumsiness. Who's the superspy now? This is just pathetic.

"You have syphilis or something?" the man speaks up again.

Bobbi is taken by surprise by this question, and also slightly offended. "What? No! Why would you even say that?" she questions.

The man takes his time, sitting up against the headboard. In that moment Bobbi decides she hates it when her targets are attractive, dirty old men aren't everything either but this makes it harder to focus. This was embarrassing, nothing makes mockingbird lose focus. She bites her lip, a nervous habit, she's acting like some hormone controlled teenager with a stupid crush- "Married then?" the British voice interrupted her train of thoughts.

She raises one eyebrow at him. That accent too, she never knew British accents were a thing for her but damn was it sexy. "This whole walk of shame thing you've got going has to have a reason right," he continues. "Since last night was awesome, and my handsome features haven't disappeared overnight, at least let me get you a decent breakfast before you run off."

Bobbi opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again because she had absolutely no response to that. It rarely ever, correction: never, happened that a guy messed up her mind so bad. Barbara Morse was never left speechless. An annoying smirk appeared on the Brit's face -Lance Hunter, mercenary, target, source, she corrected herself in her head- and Bobbi couldn't decide whether she wanted to kiss, or slap that stupid smirk off his face.

Apparently he took her silence as an agreement, as Lance got up –how was he wearing underwear while she was so naked- and kissed her on the cheek while making his way to the kitchen. "That's what I thought, love. And as much as I like ogling you, put on a shirt or something please." And there she was, dumbfounded in this stranger's bedroom. Okay, so he wasn't really a stranger since she read some long and boring file on him, but you get the idea. She weighed her options, last night when they came in here she already noted twelve exits and only four of them would include taking him out, temporarily of course. On the other hand, the harm was done now anyway so why not enjoy it a little longer.

ooo

"Do you ever sleep in," Hunter mumbles, his low voice tickling in her neck. Hunter glances at the clock, 7.15 am, and he groans.

Bobbi allows him to pull her back to bed and can't help the smile taking over her face. "It's the job," she whispers back. "And a waste of my time." She doesn't really mean that last sentence, because honestly, she can't think of a better way to spend her Sunday mornings right now than snuggled up with Lance Hunter.

"Sure," Hunter says, smirking and he placed sloppy kisses in her neck.

"What are you doing to me, Lance," Bobbi sighs. She's had been asking herself this question way too much for the past weeks, and she didn't really mean to say it out loud but she also didn't really care.

"I'm teaching you how to sleep in," he whispers in response as he snuggled closer to her.

Barbara Morse wakes up three hours later to the smell of bacon and eight missed calls from her work. And surprisingly, for a second her priorities are in that order. So she put on one of his shirts lying around and follows her nose, but not before quickly checking in with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Your other boyfriend really wants to know where you're at," Lance informs her casually as she hugs him from behind and whispers a good morning in his ear.

"My other boyfriend? So you see yourself as one of my boyfriends too then?" she asks jokingly. She doesn't expect him to turn around with such a serious face. But that's what he does, take her by surprise. All the time.

"Am I?" he asks.

Bobbi bumps her fist into his chest, only softly. "What are we, fifteen?" she questions, rhetorically before actually answering his question. "Yes, you are." She initiates the kiss, which tastes like bacon, he must have eaten some without her. Bobbi is sure she gets the same feeling in the pit of her stomach when she jumps out of a plane. When did she become such a sap.

ooo

It isn't even seven in the morning on a Sunday morning, a few months after Hunter and Bobbi had met, when he wonders if giving Bobbi a key to his place wasn't one of his better ideas. When will she learn Sunday mornings are for sleeping? He almost groans when he hears his front door almost slammed shut, erupting a loud bang in the early morning. Just as he opened his mouth to call out and tell her to be careful with his door, he heard glass shattering. He sat up quickly, ready to investigate when she stumbles into his room-confirming his suspicions that it is Bob.

She's wearing some kind of black skin-tight suit and he can't help but admire how amazing she looks in it. He silently wishes she would stand there a little bit longer but instead she drops on his bed face first. Well her back isn't that bad of a view either.

"Good morning, love," he speaks first and grins when he notices a smile making its way onto her face from the side view. As he slips his arm around her waist he notices something completely different. "Shit, Bob! Are you bleeding?" he questions-the flirty tone completely gone-pressing his hand gently to her side and sitting himself up completely.

Instead of replying to his question, Bobbi pulls him down to properly kiss him. "Good morning to you too," she mumbles as she pulls away and turns onto her side, leaving a suspiciously large streak of red on his covers. Lifting her hands she takes ahold of his face, looks straight into his eyes and pouts, "can't we just make out?"

"If that's your last dying wish, of course we can," he sarcastically replies, and receives a weak punch to the chest.

"It's not even my blood," Bobbi defends. However, when he is un-zipping open her suit, she adds,"I think."

He grins at her attempt to not be wrong and to his credit doesn't mention the bruises which have already began showing, "You probably should've gone to the hospital instead of coming my place."

Bobbi rolls over so she's lying on her back instead. "I came here because your hands are so much softer," Bobbi mumbles in a way that makes Hunter suspect she already got her hands on some strong painkillers before she arrived here.

"If that's the case, don't move; I'll go grab my first aid kit."

When he gets back Bobbi had removed her tactical suit which showed all the bruises and injuries over her body. It would be nice if it was someone else's blood, but that was not the case. He tries his best to clean and wrap her wounds in bandages, any professional doctor would probably get a headache if they saw his messy work. But it was okay, because it worked.

"Did you skip first aid classes?"

Hunter couldn't help but grin as he throws the bloodied covers onto the floor and pulls the clean covers from the cupboard over them both, it is not even eight yet so they might as well get some sleep.

"Your soft hands make up for it though."

"And here I was, thinking it was my kissing," he replies playfully before giving her a little demonstration.

ooo

Bobbi's first thoughts, when she feels something scraping against her feet, was ' _have I been abducted?'_ and ' _will they torture me for information?'._ It was then that she heard the giggles which accompanied the scraping against her feet and remembered where she was. It took her another second to wake up enough to confirm that she was indeed _not_ tied down; she was being held down by her husband's arm. She was lying on her back with Hunter supposively asleep next to her, his face is hidden in the pillow his arm resting around her waist. Both their feet were exposed to the cold morning air, due to the little devils Hunter's sister called children. Apparently he had noticed it too and was awake, as he grunted and snuggled closer to her. Bobbi tilted her head slightly to glance at the clock, 7.16 am. Wonderful.

Down by their feet the little devils must have realised that tickling their feet wasn't getting their desired response from their aunt and uncle. Bobbi let out a relieved sigh and pressed a kiss to her husband's shoulder as she heard the retreating little feet.

"Brace yourself," he grumbled in his pillow. Just when Bobbi was about to ask for what, she heard the little feet approaching their bed again at a very fast pace. Hunter pulled his wife closer, lying half on top of her, in a protective way. Bobbi smiled, she was convinced that in any other situation she would be the one protecting him. But in his defence, it was sweet. Bobbi wasn't yet sure what the protection was for until the first kid landed on their bed. And then the second, quickly followed by the third.

The three young children jumped up and down the bed, and _them_ , all the while excitedly chanting; "Wake up! Wake up! It's Christmas morning, you have to wake up!"

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, we might not make it out alive," Hunter mumbles in her ear, accompanied with a kiss before he pushes himself up, slightly turns and grabs the youngest by her ankles. "What do you think you're doing?" he asks.

The girl squeals and kicks around to get away, screaming for her brothers help. Bobbi grins and protects her head with her arms. The little girl gets away when Lance grabs one of the boys. As the girl tries to get away from uncle Lance, Bobbi tickles her sides. She's sitting up now too, her back resting against the headboard. She has a much better view on her husband torturing the little brats like this. As the girl squirms away and tries to tickle back, Bobbi let's herself savour the moment. This domestic bliss is not for them, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy it for as long as it lasts. For just a moment to imagine they're just a husband and a wife with nine to five jobs and a cute house with a white picket fence-

"Bobbi! We gotta go open the presents," the girl breaks Bobbi away from her daydreams, tugging on her arm. Hunter is already by the door, two boys hanging from his arms.

She gets up and lifts the girl in the air, she can't let Hunter be the more fun one. "Let's open some presents, then."

ooo

Hunter pulls up into the driveway and walks up the porch normally. He unlocks and opens the front door, letting it close a little too loudly for this time in the morning-but he's tired. He stumbles as he walked through the living room and halts outside of their bedroom door, taking a breath as he wasn't entirely sure whether or not she would be angry at him. With one hand pushing the bedroom door open and the other resting on the wall he pokes his head in-mainly to make sure she wasn't holding a gun. When she's not holding one and looking at him, his signature smug smile makes its way onto his face as he enters the room fully, "Sorry, Love. Did I wake you?" he asked as he strips off and throws his clothes into one neat-ish pile.

She glares at him, but doesn't respond.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," Hunter adds as he leans down and kisses his wife on the cheek.

She pulls him close and kisses him properly, "You asshole, it's been nearly twelve hours," Bobbi says, unable to let this slide and sitting up. "I thought you were dead in a gutter somewhere, Lance."

He doesn't dare grin, or mention that he still arrived at seven, just am instead of pm. Is this a good time to point out she has done this to him plenty of times? For now he pulls her back down and whispers in her hair how sorry he is and explains. He simply doesn't think it's worth it to add bitterly that she does these things without explanation, because it's _classified._

They yell about it after a well deserved sleep in. Where they accuse each other of everything and more. It's sad really, that this all started with just worrying about the other's well being, something they're never really sure of ever.

ooo

Her first missionless Sunday morning alone, Bobbi gets up at seven. She makes herself breakfast, never bacon anymore; bacon reminds her of him. So maybe their divorce was healthy in more than one ways. She starts the day with a good run and a long shower before finally unpacking the last of her things. It's not much but she needs something on her hands and it hits her how a piece of paper can change Sunday's from a day that could never last long enough to a day that never seems to end.

It's not like she can't live her life without a man, she was made for this. Alone. Or rather, independent. On any other she has no problem with this, but Sunday's are for sleeping in. Sunday's are for Hunter. Were.

o0o

 **I'm all for feedback, constructive criticism, reviews and PMs.**


	2. What Happened After

**I replaced the first chapter with a beta'd version, huge thanks to VanillaAshes.**

 **But now, this chapter. I know I initially marked this as complete but, well, let's say there was a whole lot more story to be told. This chapter is also very much longer than the first one. Thanks to VanillaAshes again, probably. Who also beta'd this chapter! The gift that keeps on giving, thank you!**

 **Well, I hope y'all will enjoy this. Let me know what you think! :)**

o0o

When Bobbi opens her eyes, all it takes is a glance at the clock tells her it is almost eleven am, which is probably the latest she's slept in for, what was it, the past year. She closes her eyes once more, the harm is done now anyway, it's too late to use her Sunday morning for good now. And then she snuggles into the man in her bed, because surely that's the reason she woke up so late and- Fuck! The man in her bed was just not any man. Oh God. Last night came rushing back to her and she froze in the embrace that felt like coming home but oh so wrong. She crawled out of the hotel bed, a hotel? Since when was she someone for hotel hook-ups.

Since she spotted her ex-husband in that shithole that dared to call itself a bar, that's when. She should've turned around right there right then. When she saw him there, fending off some blonde bimbo, admittedly her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen him in seventeen months, which meant around 68 Hunter-less Sundays. Not that she minded, or at least that's what she told herself. Because seeing him in that bar, with his three-day stubble and his hair a little too long, made her realize how much she had missed him. Not the fighting of course, and not only the earth shattering sex.

So, yes, she did enter the so called bar and she did end up in bed with him. What reminded her, she was still in bed with him. Her getting up was anything but gentle, and the elbow in his rib probably woke him up but he didn't open his eyes. Something Bobbi was relieved about, because maybe she wasn't ready to face anything just yet. She took in the room around here, it made sense they were in a hotel room. Bobbi couldn't very well drag her ex-husband to her safe house here, that would bring up more than just security issues.

"What is it, did you elope?" Hunter says with a little too cheeky grin on her face, his head still half buried in the pillows. And Bobbi is hit by the feeling of déjà vu a little too hard. He startled her, being too lost in her own thoughts. She drops the clothes she was assembling to make a quick getaway to the floor.

She places one hand on her hip and throws back: "who wouldn't?" Gesturing to her own very naked body. Last time she tried to sneak away from him was when she, as her friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. mockingly call it, _extended her mission_. This time she isn't as speechless as she was back then, however this time much more aware of the fact that this shouldn't have happened.

Hunter's comments seems to have stuck in his throat as soon as she dropped her clothes to the floor, oh he was weak when it came to Bobbi. "You would never," he tells her with a serious expression. "Elope, I mean."

Silence settles over the exes. The statement is true, of course. Their wedding is probably the only thing that went as planned, and according to all of the rules, in their whole marriage, Bobbi thought bitterly. She turns on her heels and heads for the bathroom, needing a moment with water pounding on her head to re-evaluate her choices in life.

It was a cruel trick of fate, really. To bring them together in this random bar in London, when she just screwed up a terrible mission. Sure, S.H.I.E.L.D. called it a success, but Mockingbird didn't do collateral damage. And when the 'minor collateral damage' consisted of actual minors, she was in desperate need of something to take her mind of what happened.

The moment she ordered her drink, was when her ex-husband had noticed her. Eye contact had never been more electrifying. One thing led to another, and here she was, in the shower of his hotel room. She was grateful he didn't follow her, and she realises a little less than two years ago he would've. Now the questions are, will he sneak out and does she want him to?

-scene-break-

Meanwhile in the room Hunter was trying to decide between ordering breakfast or banging his head against the wall. Oh Hell, he might multitask. Sure, he was hungry. Which was understandable after the bloody brilliant night he's had. And he probably should've banged his head against the wall a little earlier, like before banging his ex-wife. Lance still isn't sure how exactly it happened, not that he was too drunk last night to remember. He remembered clearly. Last night it sounded like a genius plan. But afterwards, he's pretty sure that making eye contact was when it all had gone wrong. Or like really, really good, but he can't think like that.

Hunter orders some breakfast to be brought up to the room, he decides to wait for Bobbi to come out of the shower-it would be rude to eat without her. Besides Bobbi had never never one for long showers-years ago she wouldn't have even slept in-which was why Hunter began to get worried when she hadn't emerged from the shower after thirty minutes. She could've let the shower running while she escaped through the window. Well, wasn't that one of the oldest spy tricks in the book. Just when Lance was about to get up to make sure nothing was wrong, she emerged in one of the hotel bathrobes. "Hi," she mumbled, clearly uncomfortable. Well that would be a first.

"I got us some breakfast," Hunter replied, gesturing at the variety of breakfast foods on the tray, including toast, bacon and eggs. Bobbi seemed to hesitated and Hunter bit back his comment about not having poisoned the food.

Silence fell over the both of them before Bobbi seemed to overcome whatever was making her uncomfortable and dropped onto the bed beside him. "Then, let's not let it get cold."

It might've been slightly uncomfortable but to Hunter it was also more familiar than ever.

More normal. He'd missed this. "So, how've you been, love?" he asks to start conversation.

"Good, you?" she replies.

Well, that's not much to go on. "Wonderful," is Hunter's answer.

"What brought you to that bar, then?" Bobbi asks.

Hunter tilts his head and lifts up one eyebrow, "what brought _you_ to that bar? It's not your usual attire." Bobbi grins, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Hunter knows he's right. When she doesn't immediately respond he continues. "It can't be the warm beer or the fabulous clientele.. Aren't your targets a little more high up the food chain usually? A little more good looking?"

Bobbi smirks in response. "You weren't." Hunter scoffs in response, but is glad to see her smiling.

-x-

It isn't until the empty breakfast plates are standing next to the bed long forgotten that the subject of S.H.I.E.L.D. comes up. Bobbi visibly freezes, having all forgotten about the reason she came to the bar in the first place. Hunter doesn't realise it immediately and chatters on in his ever so delightful accent. Bobbi lets out a sigh, she's made it this far and she's determined not to break down now. Focussed on keeping calm she doesn't realise that Hunter stopped talking.

"Bob, what is it?" Bobbi shakes her head. She was fine just minutes ago. "Did Captain America turn you down?" Hunter tries.

It's sweet that he tries to distract her, but Bobbi only lets out a humourless chuckle. It's hardly fair, of course Hunter can't know how close he hit to the truth. Captain America, the only one the whole superserum misery ever really worked on. All the tries after that only meant a very fucking terrible day for Bobbi. And last week's bastards decided to test theirs on children, Bobbi was never really one to vomit but what she saw in that compound even made her stomach turn.

And then suddenly soft hand is on her face, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that Bobbi didn't realise was rolling down her cheek. That one simple gesture was almost enough to break the dam of her vale of tears. When he whispers a soft, "hey, what's wrong?" Well, you can't stop an avalanche as it races down the hill, isn't that what they say.

Bobbi hides her face in his neck and wets his shirt with tears. Hunter is quick to wrap his arms around her, and whispers in her ear how it'll be okay. If anything, that makes her sobs even uglier. It's not only the dying little kids and his arms around her. God, his arms. She had missed that. Maybe it was faith after all that brought them to the same shithole at the same time. She didn't realise how much she'd missed him, or maybe she hadn't allowed herself to think of him at all.

When her sobs subside a little, Hunter pulls back to look at her face. His thumbs wipe under her eyes. "Hey, hey, you'll be alright," Hunter whispered as he placed a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose.

Bobbi's response was a watery smile, damn her man had his moments. Well, he was not her man anymore but let's not dwell on that. "I've missed you," she admits out loud. There's not really anything to hide from now after her little opening of her heart.

He nods in reply for a moment before he responded, "You can always call me, you know."

She shakes her head with smile before leaning forward and kissing him.

She does put her number in his phone, when he's in the shower-Just in case of an emergency; at least that what she tells herself. She doesn't leave straight away, she waits until he's out of the shower and there share a goodbye kiss; one which is a little too passionate for their own good. Then they separate, both with the promise that this won't happen again, that this was the last. However, both of them do eventually break that promise.

ooo

Nine Sunday's later, Bobbi was crouching on the top of a building in an undisclosed location, it's the afternoon and the sun is beating down her. She glances at her phone when it goes off and she decides to answer it-because stake outs are boring- and presses it to her ear.

"Barbara!" Lance practically shouts through the phone.

A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, not that he can see that of course, and that's probably for the best. After she greets him, he is silent for a bit. Trying to think of why he called her in the first place.

"You know, I found your number in my phone. Wasn't expecting it to be there," he tells her. She doesn't respond. "I'm glad I found it though, there was something I really wanted to tell you. I heard this the other day on the radio. Don't look for shadows in everything, love."

By now Bobbi was sure he was drunk, to be honest she suspected it as soon as he greeted her with the Barbara. She listened to him ramble about some song he heard, because she knew that was not the reason why he called.

"Hey Bob, remember that great lad Lucas?" he suddenly asked. The sarcastic tone in his voice suggested Lance didn't find Lucas a particular _great lad._

"Lance," she said softly. "What happened?" That was enough to open him up.

"Kids have to go to college, he said. Oh, was he miserable. That bloody traitor. And now he's dead. Just like that, all gone. All for the money, is anything really worth it then?" Lance rambled to his ex-wife.

"Oh Lance, I'm so sorry," she told him. Her voice soft and quiet and she wished she could hold him now as he broke down in another rant on his former friend. Bobbi didn't exactly understand what happened, but a clear story couldn't be expected of anyone with that much alcohol in their system.

When he was done Bobbi asked him: "Lance, what time is it?"

"Almost seven," he answers after some stumbling around.

"Where are you? Home?"

"Home is where the heart is, sweetheart. I'd be home if you were here."

Comments like that still stung, but Bobbi didn't allow herself to dwell on it. "I can't be there, I wish I could." Honesty was so much easier when she expected him to have forgotten all this by the morning. "Are you at your house?"

There was a long pause before he replied, "Yes, I sure am. You could fit in this bed too."

There was no one to notice the smile forming on her lips, so she let it form. "It's Sunday morning, Lance. You what those are for, go to sleep."

Lance made a nearly inaudible comment about sleeping in without her was shit and she couldn't help but sigh slightly; it was a sad sigh.

"Sleep it off, Lance," she told him. And then she hung up before one of them said even more things they would regret. Her target was on the move and she couldn't let him distract her. Because that's what he did. Without even trying he messed with her heart and her mind and her focus.

When she was on her way home, and her target was dealt with, she called him again. It was late in the afternoon now, where he was. He picked up, that was a good sign. He apologized and she said it was okay. He said he was fine and she didn't believe him. It felt familiar, and it felt good.

ooo

Bobbi's eyes flicker open at the smell of bacon, it hasn't smelt that good in a long time. She doesn't question where she is, the smell of bacon combined with his bedding was a huge indication. With a quick glance, she confirms that she was alone in bed and she counts as a victory-and that means celebration. Her eyes move to the clock on the bedside cabinet, it reads 9.13 am; A reasonable hour to get up and follow her nose. As she slipped out of bed, she selected the first t-shirt she came across; a Doctor Who one which he had bought years ago. She still doesn't understand why he brought it, seeing as it was too big for both of them. She then walks out of the bedroom.

She enters the kitchen and sees Lance standing, he turns and smiles at her, his eyes obviously checking her out. "I thought you slept in on Sundays?" she asks with a smile.

Hunter turns away from her quickly and focuses on the bacon. "Only when you're there, love," he answers after a moment. He divides the food over two plates, takes a seat and gestures for her to sit down. Neither of them dwell on the statement, they both know it's true for the both of them.

"Thanks," she tells him when she sits down. _For so much more than just the food,_ is what she doesn't say. She showed up on his doorstep late last night, when she finally shook the asshole tailing her. She didn't even know if he'd be there, but she'd know where to find the key. Although, she was very confident that she would find him here due to subtly asking about him when talking to Izzy last week.

Therefore, when she found herself in the area, with her cover blown, he was the first secure place she thought of. S.H.I.E.L.D. did not provide her with an extraction plan, they had the assumption that nothing would go wrong, or if it did, she could handle herself. She did not tell Lance this as she knew exactly how he would take that news; He would riot. She couldn't contact S.H.I.E.L.D. and jeopardise the whole organisation. A tiny voice in her head had shouted at that point _but you can jeopardise Hunter?_ The fact that she was in his kitchen right now answered that question.

"Sleep well?" he asks, breaking her from her thoughts to which she replied with a nod as she stuffed her face with eggs; he was surprisingly a very good cook. "You'd better," he scoffs. "Cause that couch was bloody terrible."

She smiles first of all, before offering a small pout, "you big baby." She doesn't tell him he could've joined her in the bed.

Dangerous enemies wasn't the only reason she went to Hunter instead of contacting S.H.I.E.L.D. Bobbi was quite fed up about her employers. With her clearance level below Clint's, she knew something was going on but just not what. So what she was doing before she got made was a low level mission, poorly backstopped. She needed a break, before she got in over her head.

Breakfast ended up being a long longer than one would expect, they covered a lot of topics including: The weather, the last episode of Downton Abbey and what all of their mutual friends have been up to. Eventually, he stands and clears away their plates.

She watches his movements, crossing her legs, "You didn't have to do this, you know." She spoke softly, her words quiet but he could clearly hear her.

He stops moving for a moment before placing the plates in the sink and turning around. He leans against the kitchen counter, facing her, "It's easy, sweetheart." He starts before pausing for a split second. "There'll always be someone out there who is a better listener; who you get along with better; who will think of you and care about you. There's _always_ those other people. And then, there's me, who no matter what will always be here to pick you up when you need me."

She opens her mouth and closes it again. "There'll always be someone, but none of them is you," she mumbles.

He shakes his head slowly, "don't say that, Bob."

A silence folds between them, this conversation revealed a lot about the kind of relationship they had, but still left a lot of be desired. They hadn't got back together or cut ties, she hadn't left straight away and he didn't ask her to. Instead, they spent the rest of their lazy Sunday on his couch and watched all of the Downton Abbey episodes that she had missed-although, she was sure he had already seen them. They snuggled through most of it and ordered takeout. It wasn't until Monday, the following morning that she decides to leave, after another night of sleeping apart; his bed isn't the same without him in it. They share a proper goodbye and it's the most intimate they had been since she showed up Saturday night, then-after promising not to die-she leaves. There were no arrangements for when they would next see each other, it could be a week, a month or even a year.

ooo

When Hunter heard about the 'giant hole' in the sky above New York, his first thought was of S.H.I.E.L.D. and how they'd have a field day; It sounded like something they would be involved in. However, when he thought of S.H.I.E.L.D. he logically thought of Bobbi-this sounded like the dangerous situations which she would get mixed up in. The sight of the six 'trick or treaters' didn't ease his thoughts, they were supposed to save New York and the whole world, he was just thankful that Bobbi was mixed up with them. But that convinced him that S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved. Had that guy with the golden locks not seen The Incredibles? Edna clearly said _No capes!_

Of course, the so called 'Avengers' _did_ save New York, by which time Hunter had already called Bobbi three times. He tried to convince himself that it was for information on the aliens, but deep down he knew he just needed to know that she was okay. However, Bobbi didn't pick up.

-x-

Two days later Bobbi's phone went off, looking down at it, she saw it was Hunter. It was a Sunday morning and she had the morning off, so she had time to answer it. "Lance," she answered the phone with a relieved sigh. Because she'd been thinking that it'd be such a typical thing for Hunter to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and get himself killed by an alien.

"Bob, you're alive," Hunter replied, stating the obvious.

"Of course I am. I promised, didn't I," Bobbi replied, a smile tugging at her lips at the reminder of their phrase.

"Been in the area of New York recently?" Hunter joked.

"Clean up is a bitch," Bobbi mumbled back, she checked her emails-it looked like her morning off was coming to a quick end

"Does that mean you're ready to quit that ridiculous job of yours yet? I always thought it was a load of bull, Bob. But actual aliens?" Hunter questioned, his joking tone gone.

If Bobbi was surprised about his comment, she didn't let him know. "Don't you see, Lance. My job with S.H.I.E.L.D. is now more important than ever." The silence built up between them for a few moments before she quickly changed the subject; she wasn't in the mood to argue right now. "Haven't seen you in quite a while."

"Meet up soon?" he suggested.

"Yeah, sounds good," Bobbi replied. Wouldn't that be lovely. To lock herself up in a room with her ex-husband somewhere and hide from the world for a little bit.

Bobbi glanced up at the door, it seemed like she had to end this call sooner rather than later. "I'll talk to you soon, love you bye." Bobbi instantly fell silent for a second. It was a heat of the moment comment, but that didn't make it less true. Then she snapped back into the real world and went to put the door that her friend just broke down. "All right, Iz. What the hell happened to you?" she asked when she got her first aid kit to stitch up her friend.

ooo

Bobbi stared at her phone for a few long moments, she has thirty-six or so missed call from _him_. As she returned his call, she couldn't help but feel like it is planned, seeing as it's a Sunday morning. Their last call, a few weeks ago was on Sunday as well. "Okay, Hunter, what the hell is it?" She spat out as soon as he answered the call, not even giving him chance to finish his greeting. In her defense, it had been one hell of a week.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D has just been branded as a terrorist organisation!" Hunter replied defensively, the sarcasm lacing his voice.

"Shut up," Bobbi shot back, his response not helping her mood, it was actually making her feel even more crappy. There was a time when she had appreciated his humour, but right now, it felt like a personal attack.

"Well it's true, isn't it?" he questioned without missing a beat. The wounds concerning S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall and the betrayal of many people she thought were her friends were much too fresh for him to snap about it.

Bobbi sighed and leant back against the headboard of her bed before responding, "Sure."

She needed to remind herself why she was calling, not just for a friendly chat or to return his calls. She really needed him to stop calling completely, for both their sakes. Him getting mixed up in her shit was the last thing she needed. And probably the last thing he needed too. She had a double undercover op coming up and things could get nasty very quickly. Not that it would keep her from doing it but she wasn't going to allow Hunter to get mixed up in it. In the end there was only one option, she needed to scare him off. "Anything else I already knew?"

"I'm just glad you're not dead, love," Hunter replied too sweetly.

Bobbi glared at the phone, what right did he have to spit things like that out? "Could've fooled me. Also, you could've texted," She told him, wanting to end this conversation quick-like ripping off a plaster.

"Just checking up on my gorgeous ex-wife," Hunter responded, he was clearly _not_ eager to end the conversation, which left it up to Bobbi. "How have you been?"

Bobbi took a few seconds before replying, knowing that she should just hang up the phone, cut off communication. Then again, she probably shouldn't have even called him, just e-mailed him not to stay away or something-but they were just talking, right? "Fine, you?"

"Wonderful, thanks for asking," Hunter replied, the sarcasm less judging than before. "Come on Bob, what country are you in right now? Want to get a drink?"

"My location's classified," Bobbi mumbled, she knows he's not going to like that answer. But maybe that's exactly why she says it, she needs him not to like her right now.

"Classified? S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gone, how the hell can it be classified?" Hunter questioned. "Oh, I know. I could've known couldn't I? Manipulative undercover specialist, sure you're busy now HYDRA's out of the shadows?"

It takes about a half second for Bobbi to realise what exactly he is saying. And another half second to feel all her frustration and rage boil up inside her. Like said before, the wounds were still fresh. "You have no right accusing me of that! Or anything for that matter. You'd like that, if I was HYDRA, wouldn't you? Let me tell you something. _I'm_ not untrustworthy, you have trust issues, along with a long list of other problems."

"Of course!" Hunter shot back, the sarcasm stronger than before. "Shove the blame on to others, because _you're_ so bloody perfect."

It is ridiculous how easily they fell back into their old patterns, she knew it wouldn't have been long before the fighting started-it never took long. "I'm not shoving blame, I'm just saying that you have no ground to stand on!"

"Coming from the women that _ended_ our marriage for-" Hunter started, but Bobbi interrupts him again, because she refuses to allow him to blame her for their marriage breaking up. She called to break ties with him, not the other way around.

"Excuse me, I'm pretty sure it was _you_ who destroyed our marriage! I felt suffocated around you," Bobbi retorted in defense.

"Suffocated?" Hunter shrieked slightly. "You were barely home, for all I knew you were shagging a guy for intel!"

"I was doing my job and trying to not murder you for being so damn annoying!" Bobbi spluttered out, she knew she might have been taking things a tad far, but she didn't care. She was pissed and she needed to keep him away from her as long as possible-she told herself that this was the only way. "All I wanted was a bit of fun and-"

"A bit of fun, eh?" Hunter replied, too quietly for their normal arguments. Maybe she had gone too far, was this even fixable? She knew she didn't want to actually lose him for good. But she couldn't turn back now, it was too late, she needed to protect him.

"Get your life together, Hunter. And stop bothering me, you think you could do that? Think you could maybe let go of the past?" She questioned, trying to keep her voice calm and collected.

She hears stunned protests on the other side of the line. "What the bloody hell is your problem!"

"I'm not doing this now, leave me the hell alone," Bobbi told him, more than eager to end this conversation.

"You're the one who called me!" Hunter said. "Leaving you alone, sounds bloody peaceful to me." Then it was silent, both exes deflated a little. They were waiting for the other one to end the conversation. It was Hunter who spoke up first. "Don't die, okay?" And he hung up before Bobbi could return the sentiment, so she settled for the next best thing: she threw her phone and it shattered against the wall.

Bobbi allowed herself some self pity for a minute. It was probably for the best, she was about to get mixed up in some stuff that could get nasty real quick. And then there was her undercover HYDRA op coming up. It was probably best to keep him far away from it all. That didn't stop her from letting out a sob before composing herself and opening the door of her bunk. Ready to face the world.

o0o


End file.
